


and then he met her

by another_au



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Immortality, Past Lives, Reincarnation, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:38:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/another_au/pseuds/another_au
Summary: "And so Indra lost to Asura. The end."The story was supposed to end there, but the world wrote"and then.."





	1. and so it met a flower

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hypophrenia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hypophrenia/gifts).

> i love the idea that sakuras past life had a thing with indra (sasukes past life) and thats why i made this

Indra had lost to his younger brother Asura, and he had lost the name Otsutsuki as well. He had lost everything, diminishing him to a state where he would sob and beg like a child for the annoying voice that had persistently followed him all his life to come back and once again tell him he was worthy of something great. The silence he once felt solace in felt like it was screaming in his ears how alone he was. He began to hate everything, he despised everything; weakly and pathetically trudging after the sun, reaching out to grab it in hopes of pulling it down to his level. Day by day, month by month, year by year, he walked. His journey had no purpose, no aim, his existence merely to spite the world, because someone like him was still alive. The world hated him, and he hated it back. 

He was alive, so persistently alive, and yet he wanted to die. He wanted to be reborn as a crying, squirming, pointless babe, who knows nothing of the world. Perhaps the only thing he couldn't hate was the innocence lying in a newborn babe's dull and unseeing eyes. He had seen the birth of a child once in his life, and that was the birth of his younger brother Asura. He was very young at the time, but he could remember it clearly. His mother was screaming and writhing in pain for a long time, and then she stopped moving. Even in his youth, he understood, that she would never move again. Perhaps he took after his father in that sense. However, he did not feel sadness. He could only feel pure fascination at the fragile newborn in his arms. Its eyes were open, and Indra stared into the black eyes that mirrored his own. He felt its eyes staring back into his as well, but it could not see him. It knew nothing of the world Indra lived in, and it knew nothing of the life it stole. It was foolish as well, it was full of so much curiosity and wonder even if it was blind. Indra felt that in his arms was the purest shape a soul could be in, untouched and full of stupidity and innocence. Indra could wrap his hand around its tiny throat and suffocate it and it would not feel any hate towards him. It would be too stupid to even understand what was happening. Indra may have always been sick and twisted, for that very fact excited him. 

Indra had no idea for how long or how far he had walked. His feet were so sore they were numb to the terrible pain of his skin being more and more worn down with every step. His clothes had long since worn away. His hair was long and messy, and he would only cut it when it reached the ground. Time moved quickly in his eyes, his "day" would last several mornings and his "night" lasted several moons. Today, like the day before and the day before that, he was tired. Tired of walking, tired of existing. The only thing keeping his body moving was the hate that was so strong he was sure it was a part of him now. He closed his eyes and did not weep, for all his tears had run out many years ago. 

**..and then he met her.**

He opened his eyes to the chirping of birds. Several of which were perched all along his limp body. This happened often, and Indra shrugged them off and watched them scatter, wondering whether or not they had left any feces on him. He didn't care either way. He was alive so what did it matter? Like everything but him, it would wash away and disappear as time moved on. He got up and began to walk again, however unlike most days, he stopped short. Right next to where he slept was a clearing filled with green grass and flowers of every color. And right in the middle of it was a peculiar little girl. Her hair was a very unnatural color, it was bright and pink like a flower, and when she turned around he could see that her eyes were a soft and milky green. She reminded him of a newborn babe, full of innocence and wonder. As she stared back at him, he wondered if she could really "see" him. 

He occasionally saw humans, usually in groups indicating a village was nearby. They ignored him, and so he ignored them. However, he had seen no humans for a long time. The forest was dense with beasts constantly roaming the area, to say the least it wasn't the most suitable place for a village, or a child. Setting that aside, he had never seen a human with such colorful pigmentation. All the humans he had come across had dull brown or black hair, and even his own hair was the color of rotting leaves as well. Was she even human? It didn't matter anyway. Nothing mattered. She was going to die like the rest, be it now or later, and he would live on. Upon realizing that, he began to slowly leave. 

But then the child reached out to him with her arm, beckoning him closer. As if his body was cast under a spell, he obeyed her, slowly making his way towards her. The flowers tickled his bleeding feet, reaching up and kissing his legs, the pain and the numbness fading away with every step he took. He sat in front of her, his knees together and his ankles far apart from each other, his arms drooping lazily at each side, his huge body was hunched over and towering over her much smaller one. The difference in size was extremely apparent, and like the others, he expected her to scream. However she wasn't in the least bit afraid, her eyes were filled with childish wonder and innocence. Her hand reached up towards his face, and in that moment _he _was afraid. Why isn't she afraid? What is she going to do? 

Will I finally die?

Her small and soft hand touched his right cheek unwavering, rubbing it gently. "Onii-san.. your face is handsome!" she exclaimed, and grinned. 


	2. and then he made a partner (pt 1)

Handsome? Was that what she said?

For the second time in his life, he was completely dumbfounded. There was no doubt in his mind that he looked like a monster, no, he _was _a monster. It had to be a lie, was it a trick? He wanted to move away from her hand, but its warmth was so entrancing and gentle he felt that if he moved away now, he would never feel that warmth again. For decades he had lived and thrived in the hatred he had for other humans' eyes, who weren't red with pain like his own. However the eyes he had hated and cursed so many times were staring into his own, milky green without hesitation, and he stared back. If what she said was a lie, it was the gentlest he had ever felt, soft and forgiving and warm and green and pink.. was a creature this kind really a human? Looking at the color of her eyes and her hair, he was sure she was a fairy.

"Why.. are you being so kind to me?" His voice was hoarse due to the many years he stayed silent, and the sound he made was more like the bark of an animal than a human voice. He wanted to communicate with her- through any means he wanted the only person who wasn't afraid of him to see him as a human, and he trembled and opened his mouth again in desperation: "..someone like me.. I'm a monster-" 

Then she flicked him, hard. He grimaced a little, and even though she was frowning now he could tell that her eyes had no malice in them. 

"Stuuupid. Even if they tell you you're a monster, you can't give in," she said in a frustrated tone, as if lecturing someone as old as him. She abruptly stood up and grabbed his left hand, pulling him to a shallow river. Then in one motion, she grabbed the hem of her kimono and tore it, the sound echoing in his ears. She started to soak the torn off piece of clothing in the knee deep water, and before Indra could protest he was smothered with the wet cloth. 

He sat there obediently as she meticulously scrubbed the dirt off of him. She was angry with him, and he thought about what she said to him more and more. How could she understand him? Who was she referring to when she said "they"? Give in? To what? All of which were questions he wanted to ask, but his conversation skills were so under practiced he couldn't even speak right. It was embarrassing, and utterly pathetic. He wondered how soon she would leave him, but the rhythmic sound of angry scrubbing gave him comfort. 

It took a long time to scrub off all the dirt and grime all over his body, and when she was finished she put her hands on her hips and stood back, proud. "See?" she said, her frown gone, "handsome." She motioned to the water's reflection, and when he peered down he saw a familiar human. 

It was him, and despite not aging, his face was barely recognizable to him. It was certainly like how he'd remembered it, but it felt older and miserable, unkempt and exhausted. Was she still insisting on calling him handsome? He turned to face her, and as he met her gaze, she grinned. 

Suddenly Indra felt something change inside him: he felt the pulse of his heartbeat, the warmth of his body, he saw the colors in the world, and it was all so beautiful- and then he felt the sharp pain of his abused feet, the soar muscles all through his body screaming in pain, the coldness of the air on his bare skin- but even so, it was so beautiful he could cry. And then he saw her, her smile breathing life into him again, and for the first time he truly felt alive, he felt it as he breathed, he felt it in his heartbeats, he felt it in the aching pain in his body- It wasn't just some fact to the world, it was a feeling in him, like everything mattered: every breath, every blink, every color, every sensation, every heartbeat.. all of them screamed he was alive with passion and love- and it was all because of her. 

He didn't deserve to feel this happy, or to be treated this kindly, was it okay for him to be this selfish? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been pretty busy with school starting up again and stuff so sorry this chapter is short and not very good :(

**Author's Note:**

> if any of you read the naruto fanfic i made like a week ago or so  
im still drowning in naruto nostalgia;;;;  
and now im reading the manga bc the anime would take forever


End file.
